


Just Another Regret

by audreyslove



Series: Signed Sealed Delivered [8]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 10:27:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15661365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreyslove/pseuds/audreyslove
Summary: For #OQAngstFest1, 4, 7, 8, 14, 22, 27, 28, 29, 31, 32, 33, 43





	Just Another Regret

The benefit to this relationship is she can see whomever she wants whenever she wants to.  She's not tied down. She certainly doesn't want to be tied down _in college,_ when she should be experiencing lots of new things and people, going on a journey of sexual discovery, all that jazz.  

Of course the downside to this relationship is that _he_ can see whomever he wants, whenever he wants to.  And currently, what he wants to do is flirt with Jasmine.  She's beautiful and bubbly and oh so sweet in a way that Regina will never be, and this sort of innocent, naivety stabs at her dark and sordid heart.

She tells herself for the millionth time that she has no right to feel this way and tells herself to enjoy the party.  

Will is talking to her, and well, he's definitely flirting.

He's also _definitely_ off limits, and as much as she would like to throw herself on top of him in some sort of hope to make Robin jealous and angry, she can't do that to him.  It's rude to Will and she sure as shit wouldn't like it if Robin retaliated by getting together with a friend of hers, so no, no. She won't hook up with Will.

She can't exactly tell Will _why_ it's not going to happen, can't casually mention she's secretly sleeping with her best friend, so she decides to let him down the best way she can.

“Will, do you know Arthur?” she asks, motioning over to the boring looking grad student standing near the keg.  

“A good bit,” Will says, confused in the sudden conversation shift.  “Why? What do you want from him?”

Regina shoots him an obvious look.

“Oh,” Will says, grimacing.  “Really? _That_ guy?”

“Mmm,” Regina lets her fingers dance over her neck and tries to look as enamored as she can by the very boring looking man across the room.  

“Ugh,” Will huffs in disgust. “What in the hell is so good about him?”

“Oh, what would you know? You're not a woman,” Regina says defensively.  “He's tall… has that…” god, what is attractive about him? She’s drawing a blank.  “He's got nice colored eyes, and uhh, I like his scruffy little beard...”

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Will frowns, downing half a solo cup’s worth of beer in one swallow.  “I'm getting another drink.”

And now that's she's driven off Will she's free to look at Robin again.  And she wishes she didn't. Jasmine has her arms wrapped around his neck and appears to be eating his face off in these aggressive, annoying kisses Robin is all too eager to return.

Ah, well.

What did she expect, anyway?  

She makes her way over to Arthur.  He's… whatever. He's okay. And you know maybe she will find she likes him.  Maybe he will spark something in her. There's no point in not trying something new, experiencing something different.

That's the benefit of this arrangement, anyway.

.::.

It turns out Arthur is much more interested in Emma, and if she cared about him at all, her pride might be wounded.  But instead she's just grateful for a reason to abandon this particular hookup — she's not feeling it.

She's really not feeling much of anyone lately.  She only feels interested in one person, actually.  Which is obnoxious and really quite frightening considering she’s vowed never to get attached to anyone.  

Damn Robin for being so fucking wonderful, inside and out.  He is really complicating things.

.::.

Regina is going to have to get over her little fling with Robin, it seems, because he slept with Jasmine that night.  Will jokes about it while they are all at lunch, John shooting Regina an… interesting look before elbowing him in the ribs and telling him to shut up.

“I'm just saying, the man _cooked_ for her afterwards, as a thank you I suppose?  I didn't even know Robin _could_ cook.”

“Neither did I,” Regina murmurs, her nerves flaring, a voice screaming in her ears that he _never_ cooks for her.  Of course, there's not many opportunities for him to cook after sex with her, the way they sneak around.  One of his roommates might see and suspect something, after all. But still, he’s never showed her his culinary skills in their entire friendship, and that petty, jealous voice inside her _screams_ that it’s unfair that she will never experience a domestic moment the way Robin and Jasmine already have.

“It was just macaroni and cheese, for fucks sake Will,” John groans.  “She was drunk and it was four AM. Let’s not go giving Robin awards for knowing how to boil water.”

Regina snorts, rolling her eyes as she thinks of Robin opening a box of prepackaged filth to impress the cute new coed.  And he thinks he's slick.

“Well I still think it’s serious.  You heard it here first, he has a new girlfriend and we have a new addition to our little crew.”

“You want her for yourself, _that’s_ what this is about,” John chuckles.  “Just find your own damn woman, stop always picking up Robin’s leftovers.”

“It’s not my fault we have the exact same taste in women,” Will grunts. “And I got with Ruby first, for what it’s worth.”

The conversation shifts to Will’s lovelife, John and Killian getting some solid burns in there while Regina forces herself to laugh at every story, every joke.

But she can’t stop thinking about Jasmine eating macaroni and cheese with Robin at four AM.

  


.::.

They have a policy they’ve followed since becoming friends with benefits.  It was agreed to for safety’s sake, and as a sign of trust. It’s honesty. Complete honesty.

The rule is they tell one another when they sleep with someone else.  And they are honest as to whether it’s serious, so the other doesn’t make a fool of themselves trying to start something.

So when Robin contacts her later that week, she’s not surprised.  It’s just a text, a simple _Are you free later today?_

These texts usually make her excited at the prospect of spending time with him.  But today it sends a sense of dread through her. He didn’t see her at that party last night, and she wasn’t supposed to be there at all, so he probably thinks she doesn’t know about Jasmine.

And he’s about to tell her, and she’s going to have to pretend to be happy for him, just like she pretended to be happy when he dated Marian again.

But she can’t avoid the conversation so she texts back _Sure, want to meet for coffee later?  At our spot?_

_No I have the place to myself for the day.  Can you come over?_

She frowns.  If she didn’t _know_ he was with Jasmine today an invitation like that might lead her to believe he’s asking for a booty call.  

But she does know, thankfully.  He’s probably just inviting her somewhere private so they aren’t overheard.  That’s all.

So she texts him back and says she will be right over.

He says he can’t wait to see her, and she finds that a bit odd.

.::.

“Hey,” she says, stepping through the door without knocking.  

He looks a bit disoriented, probably didn’t expect her so early. But she just wants to get this over with before she has too much time to overthink and get all sad and sentimental.

“Hello, gorgeous.” He walks over to her and tries to kiss her lips, but she turns away quickly.  He catches her on the cheek instead.

What the absolute fuck?

She narrows her eyes at him and pushes him back.

“Sorry,” he grimaces.  “I… um, guess I misread things.”

“Clearly.” Regina stares at him, waiting for him to speak first.  But he doesn’t, so she’s left asking the question she really doesn’t want to know the answer to.  “So what did you want? Why am I here?”

“I…”  He grimaces deeply rubbing his hands in his hair.  “Because I wanted some alone time with you? I’ve missed you.  And missed—”

“Do you have something to tell me?” she asks accusingly, throwing her purse onto the chair.  “Something I should know about, for example?”

Robin furrows his brow.  “No,” he draws out jokingly.  “Do _you_ have something to tell me?”

Regina huffs and rolls her eyes in an almost comically dramatic way.  And then she pushes him away from her, he shouldn’t be standing so close, smelling like mint and aftershave. Not when she’s this mad at him.

“We had an agreement.” She points her finger at him.  “I trusted you! We were supposed to be honest with one another.”

“I… am sorry,” he says, and he’s every bit the actor, isn’t he.  “What am I not being honest about?”

“Saturday night.” She watches his face screw up in mock confusion and it drives her crazy.  “I was there, you know.”

There’s a brief flicker of guilt, and then he’s back to playing innocent and defensive.

“What? With Jasmine? We made out for a bit at the party and parted ways. It was nothing. I thought we said we don’t have to share these things unless they get… more serious.”

“You’re lying,” she seethes.  “If you’re going to try to hide things from me, maybe make sure your roommates are on the same page.  Because Will already talked about your little early morning breakfast after your fuckfest, and—”

“It wasn’t a fuckfest!” Robin shouts back, “for Christ’s sake, Regina, calm down!”

“Oh fuck off, I have every right to be angry.” That’s it.  She is grabbing her purse and leaving, how dare he think this is not a big deal.  “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find out?  Or did you just not care what you said as long as you could get me into your bed one last time?”

She’s got to leave now, before she starts crying.  She makes a beeline for the door, but Robin blocks it.

“Regina, give me a chance to explain.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she snaps back.

“No, Regina, please, it’s not what you think. I didn’t, we didn’t.  She was very drunk, and then she shared something with me, something very personal, and, we, we just talked, and then yes, I made her mac and cheese.”

But she’s too hurt now.  Even if she _believed_ him, he still stood there and said they parted ways at the party when she full well knew he took her home. And it’s fuzzy under their agreement whether he should have told her or not but he definitely should not have lied and implied that he didn’t do much more than making out at a party.

“You took her _home,”_ she reiterated.  “And you just told me you didn’t.”

“Yes!  I lied okay?  Only because I told her I wouldn’t tell anyone about it.”

“I’m not just _anyone!_ ” she shouts back, “If I took a guy home _three days ago_ I’d tell you before I started trying to get you into bed.”

“Regina, please, I told you, nothing happened.”

“Because _she_ stopped it,” Regina seethes, “Right?”

His eyes fill with guilt as she watches his chest rise.  “Yes, but—”

“And if she hadn’t have stopped, you would have, you wanted to.”

“But we didn’t!  And if we had I _would_ have told you!”

“So what is this?” Regina asks, motioning between them, “You didn’t get with the woman you wanted so badly so you figure you could use me as some sort of consolation prize?”

“I didn’t mean it that way, and you _know_ it,” he responds, and now he looks angry and hurt.

Maybe she’s being ridiculous, but _three days_ ago.  And Robin doesn’t often bring girls home.  And he certainly doesn’t make them _food._  So she continues.

“So there is someone you were interested enough to spend the night and the morning with, to _cook_ for, but it didn’t work out, so hey, until she comes around I can spread my legs and satisfy you, is that it?”

“No, Regina, please, that’s not what it is!”

“Then why did you lie to me?” she asks, folding her arms against her chest.  “Because if she was just some other girl you had no interest in you would have told me, like you have _every other time_.  But you knew if you admitted you liked her enough to stay up all night chatting and cooking for her—”

“Cooked?  I made macaroni and cheese, for fucks sake, Regina, I—”

“More than you’ve ever made for me,” she snarls back.

“Fuck, sit down, I’ll make you some now, I—”

“Oh I don’t want to eat your shitty food,” Regina rolls her eyes.  “You looked me right in the eyes and lied to me. And even if I were to believe nothing happened?  You _know_ if you’re interested in someone else you have to tell me.  And don’t even say you aren’t into her, because I know you, and you don’t spend all night talking to a woman you _don’t_ like.”

“I like her,” he admits.  “But it’s never going to happen, so—”

“So it's okay to hide it from me?  I don’t need to know about it because you think you fucked it up?  That was _not_ our agreement. I fucking trusted you.” Her eyes well up, she is going to sound so weak, but she can’t help it.  “I trusted you more than anyone else in this world, and you just… I used to think of you as someone who would _never_ use me this way.”

“I never would,” Robin isn’t faring any better; it seems her words have hit him hard. He looks terribly wounded by this, and she wants to believe she can still read him, that he’s hurt, that he understands, but before today she never thought he’d lie to her so flippantly.

“It’s like I don’t even know you.” Her voice is icy, biting, and she hopes it cuts deep into him.

“Please, Regina, I never meant to hurt you, I—”

“Then why did you lie?” she asks, unable to even pretend she isn’t hurt.  His mouth falls open, but words don’t come out.

“I wish I had listened to your sister,” Regina grimaces.  “I wish I had never gotten involved with you.”

“Regina, please, you don’t mean that, will you sit down, please, Regina, you mean so much to me, I—”

She grabs the door handle and shakes her head.  “You made the choice to treat me like this, now deal with it.”

She doesn’t look back, just slams the door and leaves.

.::.

She tries to find an excuse to avoid Robin after that, but it doesn’t quite work.  The thing about having a secret relationship (not relationship, _arrangement)_ is you can’t really explain to others why you can’t be around one another when things fall apart.  

She blocked his number on her phone after he sent a series of texts she just didn’t want to read.  She tells herself it's because he’s annoyed her, but really, it’s because she is weak and finds herself wanting to dial his number far too often.

Still, she can’t avoid him entirely.  He shows up at her apartment when Emma asks him over, she sees him at parties, the food court on campus.  

And she can’t let on that anything is _different,_ so she smiles and behaves, but doesn’t talk about anything important to him, doesn’t joke or laugh like she used to.

It’s easier to avoid him in those situations, when they aren’t all going somewhere together, when it’s not a group dinner or night out with their group.  

She keeps finding excuses to avoid those.

Just until her heart heals a bit, she needs time away from seeing him in that sort of setting.

Emma has already asked if something is wrong, and Regina had insisted it is nothing, that she’s just in a mood.

But then Emma walks in on Regina talking to Cora on the phone as the woman is mid-rant, and she gives up on investigating the cause of her foul mood.  

Cora starts this particular conversation by calling her a pathetic excuse for a daughter over her planned curriculum for next year.  And that conversation leads to criticism over her poor internship prospects and how Cora will have to pull strings to get her anything of note.  Then she moves to her looks, and Regina wonders what she really did to deserve this.

That’s when Cora drops it.  Right after stinging bite about her hygiene routine, she adds that she noticed a breakout in one of her recent pictures on her flickr account — an account Regina had never shared with her mother and had never planned to, for obvious reasons.

And she pays for that secret now, with Cora berating her at every angle.  Could she pick more flattering outfits? Peach is not and never will be her color.  College is about networking, when you wear things that make you look cheap and tawdry, people think you don’t have any sense in your brain.  And if her mother can find those pictures, future employers can too, what sort of message is she sending to the world with all those pictures at filthy bars holding a drink in her hand?

She takes it all, trying to school her face as if she isn’t upset, but Emma knows her, and there’s no sense trying to prove otherwise.

Emma refuses to leave her alone that night, forces her to come out with her to eat at her favorite tapas restaurant with a few friends.  And Regina can’t ask if Robin will be there and then mysteriously decide she can’t go if he is — Emma would figure out there was something between them immediately.

So she trudges along, hoping Emma hasn’t invited her brother to yet another dinner.

But Emma is dating one of her brother’s friends, after all, so it’s not surprising when she sees Robin walk in with Killian, taking a seat directly across from her.

She wants to scream.

Thankfully, though, he doesn’t stare, he doesn’t try to engage her.  He offers her a look, an apologetic one, almost, and she realizes he might not have known she was going to be at this little outing, either.

She tries to enjoy herself and to ignore him, but they haven’t had to be in such close proximity for so long.  She is so angry at him, and yet she misses him so terribly. It’s infuriating, really.

She needs to stop missing him so much.  Needs to stop wishing he’d reach out and tap her knee under the table the way he sometimes does, just a simple little touch to let her know he’s there for her and thinking about her.

She definitely needs to stop being so distracted by how good he looks, and how much she could use a hug from him today.

“Are you okay, Regina?” Elsa asks, “You‘re so quiet.”

“Cora was a twat again,” Emma answers before taking a sip of her beer.  “This time more than usual.”

“Apparently my mother is quite the internet sleuth,” Regina says before pounding the last of her sangria.  “She found some photos of me she took issue with. Do you know I dress whorish and go to filthy bars?”

Robin nearly chokes on his beer, and she smirks at him.

“One of my favorite things about you,” Ruby winks.

“She’s terribly disappointed,” Regina sighs.  “I have pictures of me grabbing Ruby’s ass on that site, can’t wait for that to come up at the next Thanksgiving party.  She hasn’t gone that far. She’s only criticizing my looks and my clothing options so far.”

Robin looks sympathetic, but has the good sense to say nothing.

“Fuck her,” Emma says, tapping her shoulder for support.  “If your mother hates what you’re doing it means you must be winning at life.”

And she smiles and tries to put Cora’s voice out of her head for the rest of the night.

.::.

They wind up at the bar next door after that, and plenty of drinks are had.  She avoids Robin initially. He is being good to her, giving her space. For some infuriating reason that makes her want to be even closer to him.  But she forces herself to appear disinterested and keep her distance.

But when she wanders downstairs to the basement bar for another drink, Robin is one of the few people at the less-crowded, quieter bar.

She is three drinks in, and craves his company, so she can’t help but smile his way.

He orders from the bartender soon after.  She grabs a seat at an open bartop, knowing he’s going to correctly guess her drink order and get it for her.

“Vodka soda?”

“Thank you,” she says politely.

“Can I?” he asks while pointing to the open chair across from her.

She shouldn’t be doing this, she’s really not ready.  She’s too hurt, too embarrassed to let him in again. But still…

She nods against her better judgment.

He sits across from her and just drinks her in.  

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes.

“I’ve missed you too,” she admits.  Damn it. Three drinks has killed every ounce of self protection she has.

“I really want to apologize,” he sighs.  “I never should have kept it from you, you have every reason to be angry at me.”

“I’m not angry anymore.” The words slip out before she has time to contemplate whether they are true.

“Really?” He looks so hopeful and _very_ relieved.  “Good, because knowing that you were upset with me has been gnawing at me these past few weeks.”

“All in the past,” she waves her hand.  She’s lying through her teeth, she knows that now. But she can’t imagine anything that would make her _not_ angry so why not fake it til she makes it? “I know I seem out of sorts but it’s only because I haven’t had the best day.”

Robin looks at her with eyes full of sympathy and pain, he reaches for her hand from across the table. “I’m so sorry.  You want to talk about it? Your mother, I mean? From what little Emma said it sounded awful. We could sneak away, have coffee at our spot tomorrow…?”

She’s definitely craving his company and his comfort, but she definitely isn’t ready to be weak and vulnerable in front of him again.  

And as zen as she tries to be about the whole thing, she’s suddenly so angry that he thinks everything can so easily go back to normal.

“No, I don’t need you anymore,” she says plainly, trying to keep her voice singsong and nonchalant.  He looks like she’s shot him in the chest so she sighs and amends, “Its just, I think I relied too heavily on you once, but I’ve broken from that now.  I don’t want to come to you with my problems anymore.”

“Why not?  I always come to you with mine. We are there for one another, we always were, even before this became more, it—”

She will start crying if she keeps talking to him so she sighs and says, “I’m sorry, Robin, I just think things have changed.  Thanks for the drink.”

And with that she stands up, and walks away before she loses her nerve.

.::.

On Saturday night she goes home early and trades an extra shot of tequila for a sleeping pill.

It works well, so well that Emma has to shake her awake.  

“Regina!  Will’s in the hospital.”

“What?” Her blood rushes cold.  “Robin, is he, did he?”

“Robin’s fine. I’m talking about Will!  Alcohol poisoning is what we are _hoping_ but it could be an overdose.  He had a lot of coke.”

“Fuck,” Regina whispers.  “Are you going to the hospital to wait?”

“He made John his emergency contact, don’t ask me why.  Probably so his parents wouldn’t find anything out from doctors in case he did something stupid like this.  Neal and Killin are with John, they want me there.”

Regina arches an eyebrow precariously at the mention of her ex boyfriend and currently boyfriend hanging out.  Emma just sighs. “I know, okay? But I can’t really think about that now.”

“Is Robin at the hospital?”

“No, he’s at the apartment.  John found him passed out this morning. Said he’s kind of a mess.  He was out with Will that night and feels really guilty, I was wondering if you could—“

“I’ll go over, of course I will,” Regina says quickly.

“Good, thank you so much Regina.”

And Emma is out of her bedroom making a beeline for the door before Regina can reply.

She should be worried about Will right now, but she’s not.  She’s worried about her not-boyfriend instead. He doesn’t have a drinking problem, but god, when he gets with Will or Killian he can lose his mind trying to keep up with them.  Add the guilt of not recognizing a friend needing help — she knows he will blame himself — and he’s got to be absolutely miserable.

She’s still mad at him for breaking her trust like that, but all that anger can keep awhile.

She knocks on the door, waiting (he’s given her a key, but she’s not sure she should be using it). Robin answers the door after the third knock.

He's in a tee shirt and sweats, hair a complete mess, eyes bloodshot and red, slumping like he can barely stand.

“Regina?  Did Emma send you to check on me?”

“No.” It’s not a lie, actually.  This whole thing was her idea. “She said you weren’t at the hospital with everyone else and I wanted to come check on you myself, make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh.” He looks at her a bit before admitting in a choked voice, “I’m not okay, not really.”

She is hugging him before he can even get another word out, against her better judgment.

He still smells of liquor and smoke, but it doesn’t matter right now.

“He is going to be fine, Robin. And it’s not your fault.  It’s Will, for fucks sake. This isn’t the first time and won’t be the last.”

“He was slurring his words so bad when I left him,” Robin admits.  “He always is but that time was really bad. I said he should be cut off but I should have dragged him home with me.”

“You aren’t his father,” Regina reminds.  “Will wouldn’t have listened to you anyway.”

“Maybe not, but I could have tried…” Robin shakes his head.  “You girls always look out for one another. You’d never have left Ruby alone in that situation.”

“It’s different for women and you know it,” Regina soothes.  “ _You_ wouldn’t have left Ruby alone. I didn’t see Will but if he was just slurring his words I’d have left him alone without even thinking about it.”

He nods softly. “Maybe.”

“Definitely.” She flashes him a smile and runs her hands through his hair, gently.  She shouldn’t be doing this, but she’s never been good at resisting him. And whenever he’s hurting she’s even less able to leave him alone. “Plus it seems you overdid it yourself last night, too.  Probably didn’t have the best of judgment.”

He grimaces.  “Yeah. I haven’t really been making good decisions lately.”

“Mmhm,” she smiles.

“I miss you a lot,” he admits.  “Thank you so much for coming over.  You didn’t have to. It means a lot.”

He’s so cute when he’s grateful. And nervous.

Damn it.

She smiles at him and leans in closer.

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course I came.  You’re still my friend, you’re still my best friend,” Regina strokes his arm now, again too intimately, the way she would.  And since he’s hurt and weak now so she can be, too. “I am just a bit hurt and embarrassed, that's all. I need more time.”

“You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about.” Robin reminds.  “I am the one who fucked everything up, and—”

He’s interrupted by a pinging sound from both their phones.  It’s a mass text from John telling them Will is up and alert, all he needs is IV fluids and he will be released.

Regina smirks.  “See? Just fine.”

Robin flops down on the couch with a sigh of relief.  “Thank fucking Christ.”

Regina sits down next to him and sighs.  “Now everything can be all sunshine and rainbows again,” she says lightly.

“No, it’s not.” Robin grimaces.  “I hurt you, and you’re still hurting.  Nothing is going to be great until I fix that.”

“I’m not sure there’s anything you can do, it just—”

“Jasmine’s gay,” Robin blurts out.  

Regina’s eyes go wide.  Well, that was out of nowhere.

Then he launches into a long, rambling monologue.

“Or she thinks she is, I don’t know.  I invited her back with me that night, I did, but she said no.  Then she showed up knocking on my door a half hour after I got back, all determined and… whatever.  We tried, _she_ tried, we only did light groping over clothes and then she got frustrated and sort of… told me.  And we talked a lot, about a terrible homelife that I can’t share, and it was a miserable story. She asked I not tell anyone and I didn’t, but that’s why we were up all night talking.  That’s why Will thought it was something serious. That’s why she slept over. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t know how to explain it wasn’t serious without telling you what we talked about.  And maybe I was a bit embarrassed because I thought she was into me. I’m an idiot. And you’re right, I’d be terribly hurt if you lied to me about taking some guy home even if it ended up the same way it did with Jasmine.  I’d want to know, if I was you. So i’m telling you and trusting you not to share.”

He still should have not lied, of course, but the pain and anger she feels loosens from her chest, and Regina takes in a deep, unrestricted breath.  He wasn’t trying to hide feelings for someone else from her. He was just trying to hide a night that went wrong.

“Of course I won’t tell anyone about Jasmine,” she assures.  “Look, I know we aren’t serious but I need to be sure that when we’re _doing that_ it’s only us.  I don’t want you in bed with me thinking about a girl you want, a girl you wished you could be sleeping with instead of me.”

He chuckles as if she’s said something ridiculous.  “I’m never thinking about anyone else when we are together.  Ever. I need you understand that right now.”

She smirks and tilts her head.  “Not even the drunken, desperate times?”

The mood goes intimate, then.  He cups her chin, tilts it toward him, his thumb stroking her cheek.  “Especially not then.” She sighs and lets her eyes close for just a moment while he caresses her cheek, then lets a hand wander through her hair.  “I don’t want Jasmine, I’m not at all upset that we won’t get together. I just don’t think about her that way anymore, not after that night.”

“But when you start wanting someone else, you have to tell me,” Regina says cooly, drawing herself out of his hypnotic touch.  “I am betting this isn’t the typical arrangement for friends with benefits, but I just don’t want to be a body you’re using to pretend to be someone else.  And maybe I shouldn’t care, maybe it’s best we just stop before we ruin our friendship.”

Robin’s eyes widen, his eyebrows raise, and he shakes his head.  Vigorously. As if she just said something horrible.

He grabs her hand and pleads, “I don’t want to stop.  I loved the way we were before, I just want that again.” His hand is caressing hers, thumb stroking her palm the way she likes.  “But of course we _can_ stop, whenever you want.  I love, you know, _everything_ we do together.  But I would settle for just actual coffee dates and being able to talk and confide in one another the way we always have.  That’s more important to me than anything.”

“It’s important to me too.” She bites her lip as the emotion wells up, has her almost trembling before she just speaks it.  “I’ve missed you so much these past few weeks.”

He hugs her then, and she welcomes it, her head fitting perfectly into the hollow of his shoulder.  God, she’s missed him so much.

He urges her onto his lap.  She lets him lead her there, her legs shifting and straddling his.  They can fully hold one another this way. He feels amazing, even if he smells like a stale bar.

“We’re okay, then?” he asks, breathing into her neck.

“More than okay,” she assures.

She presses a kiss to his lips anyway, a light peck, then a second, then a third.  He doesn’t deepen, just coasts his fingers down her sides as she kisses him and smiles at him, running her hands through his hair with a grateful sigh.

And she really wants to kiss and makeup properly, but that smell isn’t going away.

So she wrinkles her nose at the smell of rum and smoke and orders him playfully, “Go take a shower.”

Robin laughs.

“Of course, let me get the stench of last night off me. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.  I just miss the way you normally smell,” she flirts back, shifting off his lap to let him use the bathroom.

“Do you really?” he asks, as if it’s absurd that she could miss something so trivial.

She finds herself unexpectedly shy, a bit embarrassed to be admitting she’s so attached to him.  So she nods but is unable to look him in the eyes.

“I missed _everything_ about you, for what it’s worth,” he tells her.  He kisses her on the lips, the brow, the cheek, and then bolts to the bathroom.

He returns smelling of mint and woodsy aftershave, the apartment filling with the hearty scene of coffee, scrambled eggs and sausage that Regina is making to cure his hangover.

“You’re cooking for me?” he asks, obviously touched.

“Yes, well it’s not the culinary delight that is macaroni and cheese,” she smirks back.  “But I figured you might want something to eat.”

It feels too domestic, sharing breakfast while they catch one another up on the details of their lives the past few weeks. It starts with touching and soothing one another but then they are kissing again and she’s on his lap, grinding on him as he strips off her shirt tenderly, as he cups her breasts in his hands, whispering that he missed her so badly, that he loves the way she feels on him like this, that he can’t get enough of her.

She drinks in every ounce of affection he gives her.

And maybe she will run from this tomorrow, but for now, it feels right.

  



End file.
